


Yes

by Asynca



Series: Ready, Set, Go! - Speed Prompts [34]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, bitchy sniper frenemies, double sniper is the new meta right, have two nasty snipers picking at each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:13:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asynca/pseuds/Asynca
Summary: This came out of a conversation on my stream about Widowmaker and Hanzo being bitchy sniper frenemies.





	Yes

It was another hot summer night in Venice; the type of stifling heat where every room in every house felt airless and claustrophobic. All the locals and tourists alike had poured out of their apartments and out into pavement restaurants, laughing, chatting and drinking.

Because of that, it was louder than usual. Widowmaker wasn’t a big fan of noise. From the somewhat secluded rooftop bar she’d found, she leant forward on her stool against the bar, sipping her cocktail and try to ignore both the persistent buzz of noise and the awful heat. It wasn’t this hot in Annecy—Talon had better have a good reason for summoning her here. She’d find out why, given time. 

“ _Widowmaker_ ,” a man’s voice said in the doorway behind her; dry, accented, probably Japanese, and clearly unhappy to see her. In the reflection of her tall glass and dark cocktail, she could see a dragon tattoo on the man’s forearm. She recognised it; Talon had been courting Hanzo for some time, but personally, she hadn’t expected him to be tempted. This was an interesting turn of events. 

He didn’t seem that happy about them. “I should have known I’d find  _you_ here.”

“Of course I’m here,” she said easily, still facing away from him. “Talon needs a  _real_ sniper.”

She heard him scoff. Turning very slowly toward him on her bar stool, she crossed her legs, knowing full well how much thigh she was flashing him. His displeasure was palpable; he always  _hated_ her displays of lasciviousness. “A sniper who wants to be seen…” he muttered, disgust audible as he approached her. “What on earth was Talon thinking when they recruited you?”

She shrugged, enjoying his disapproval. “It’s hard for a man to shoot a very attractive woman.”

He sounded whollyunconvinced. “Is it?” 

She froze mid-sip, suddenly noticing his well-cut suit and his thinly veiled self-hatred.  _Oh._ His disinterest in her made much more sense if  _that_ were the case. She took another sip of her cocktail. “Well, it’s hard for  _most_ men to shoot an attractive woman.”

“Most men are fools.”

Widowmaker’s eyebrows shot up. She’d drink to that. Conceding to him, she finished her drink and placed in on the table beside her. “So, does this mean you’ll be joining Talon after all?”

Approaching the bar beside her, he gave her a very hard, very long stare. He didn’t answer her, though, turning the bartender. “Sake, if you have it,” he said. “And one more of whatever this is.” He indicated Widowmaker’s empty glass.

That surprised her again. Buying her a drink? “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He grunted. Then, something occurred to him and he gave her another very hard look. “Wait, is that why you’re here instead of Akande? Did he really think  _you_ , in your tight little dress, would convince  _me_ to join Talon?”

Hmm. She wouldn’t put it past Akande to have used her as bait if he thought she’d make the offer more tempting; he’d certainly done it before. She shrugged.  

His eyes dipped down her body, but not with the same indulgence she was used to from men. “I don’t imagine people say no to you very often.”

“They don’t.”

He smirked a little. “Perhaps I’ll be your first,” he said, and then laughed once, cruelly. “I don’t imagine there are many firsts with someone like  _you_.”

Was he trying to insult her with that? “Well, not all of us are afraid of our own sexuality.”

The expression on his face… for a moment, she thought he might genuinely attack her, if not at least storm out without so much as another word. That moment passed though, and he accepted the two drinks from the bartender as if they hadn’t been picking at each other. 

When he handed her the second cocktail, there was no trace of anger. Instead, he looked somewhat impressed. “I will join you for a drink,” he said gruffly, moving to sit on the stool beside her. “That much is all I can promise for now.”


End file.
